And it Was All Yellow
by livefvrever
Summary: Fang and Max have been inseparable since birth, and they promised never to leave each other. They PROMISED. But when Fang gets into his dream school, he has to leave Max behind. She does NOT take it well. Now Fang has to do everything he can to try to win her friendship back. Cue a wacky summer filled with carnivals, concerts, a crazy road trip, and /maybe/ forgiveness. FAXFAXFAX
1. Chapter 1

**I swear this isn't a rip-off of a John Green novel.**

* * *

Fang and Max. Max and Fang.

That's how it's always been.

Ever since the Ride family moved next door to the Walker family and became super close. When Mrs. Ride went into labor with her husband in Washington D.C., it was my mom who scooped eighteen-month-old Fang into her arms and drove her best friend to the hospital. My mom and I lingered in the dull, white waiting room of the hospital for hours, biting our nails (Well, my mom bit her nails. I was playing with blocks in the corner by shoving them into my mouth and biting _those_. But toddlers have different coping mechanisms, ok?) until Mrs. Ride came out in a wheelchair, carrying a small, white bundle.

"Look, Nicholas," my mother breathed as she picked me up so I could get a better look at the bundle. It was nothing to look at- all I could see was a small pink face, with its eyes closed and its thumb in its mouth.

"Just five minutes ago, she was screaming so loudly my ears are still ringing," Mrs. Ride said, laughing. "Good thing she tired herself out."

My mom adjusted my on her arm and responded, but I had stopped listening to the conversation and was busy staring at the tiny person in front of me. Something about that face made me smile, pull out the yellow block from my mouth, and offer it to the baby, dripping with drool and covered with teeth marks. As if in response, her eyes opened and she stared at me.

And I swear her face also curved into a smile.

My mom ruined the moment (first of thousands, I promise) by taking the block from me. "Aw, Nick's offering Maxine a toy," She winced at the bite marks and drool. "Wow, someone's very good at biting. Look at those fangs!"

I tried to take it back from her. It wasn't _her_ block, it belonged to my new pink friend. "Mama," I whined, squirming in her arms.

She finally understood, thank God, and offered the block to Mrs. Ride. "I think Nick here really wants Maxine to have this."

I stopped squirming the instant the yellow block went into Mrs. Ride's hands. "Your first toy, Max!" The baby gurgled in response, and she smiled at me. "Yes, I think these two are going to become _best_ friends."

* * *

Except now it's not Fang and Max. It's just Fang. And it feels _wrong._

When I got into Cornell I felt like the luckiest guy ever. My dream school, the one that I had fantasized about for years (in a totally sexual way, of course). But I didn't tell Max, who thought I was going to the nearby UCSD.

When I committed, I didn't realize it would mean moving across the entire damn country for nine months at a time.

When I got on the plane I didn't realize how heavy my heart would feel.

When I saw Max's face, screwed up in sadness and anger, I didn't realize I'd want to change my mind and turn the plane right around. They don't let you do that, by the way. Something about "deadlines" and "professionalism" and "terrorists."

Anyways, now I'm standing in my tiny box of a dorm in Dickson Hall, waiting for my orientation to begin. My phone beeps, and I sigh, finally gathering up the courage to check it. In the midst of congratulatory texts from my family and friends, people trying to keep up with Snapchat streaks, and Facebook notifications (no, I don't care that Brigid Dwyer is interested in a Coldplay concert!) I see a single text from Max.

 _You promised me you'd be around forever_.

"Oh man," I whisper, clearing my notifications so I can look at my wallpaper, a picture of Max and I smiling together right after we had both gotten our braces removed. At the age of 11, I was finally free of the enormous canines that had netted me my nickname, but thanks to Max, the name stuck forever. Emotion floods through me as I realize how much I miss my best friend.

I've made a huge mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

_I love everyone who followed and favorited and you don't deserve an author who updates once a year. However, I am not the hero you deserve, but the hero you need. And I'm also not a hero - unless you count the fact that I found two matching socks this morning heroic._

* * *

This is my life now. Driving home from the _dentist_ while my ex-best friend decided to drop off the face of the Earth without even telling me to my face. That's right - I had to find out he schlepped off to college across the country from a _Facebook notification_. And this happened a few hours ago, while I was getting my teeth scraped with a bayonet.

So, no, I wouldn't say my Wednesday has gotten off to a particularly good start.

I pull into the driveway of my two-story stucco house - the poster house for suburbia - and slam the door so hard I feel the vibrations in my arm. Scowling, I stomp into my house and slam the front door closed as well. The noise alerts Valencia Ride, aka my mom, aka the lady who doesn't miss a single trick."Max, why are you scowling? Smile for me, I want to see how beautiful Dr. Brenner made your teeth. What did he say?"

"That I'm almost eighteen and I can take care of myself now," I reply, scowling harder. While _some_ unnamed people get to have their independence from their parents and go to college on Mars, _I_ am stuck at home for another year, which is already shaping up to be the worst year of my life.

"I'm just asking because I got a call from the receptionist just now. Apparently you left your checkup report crumpled in the trash can by accident." Her mouth twitches like she's holding back a smile. "From what I understood, you're in danger of getting cavities. So, no more chocolate chip cookies, at least not for a while."

 _Worst year of my life._

"Can I go now? Are you done ruining my day even further than it's already been ruined? Are you done treading on the grave that holds my empty shell of a person?"

My mom's face twists from a smile to a look of concern. "Max, why are you being so dramatic? Did you - oh." She links her fingers together and looks guiltily to her right. The glance only lasts a second, but it's enough for me to put two and two together.

"You _knew_ he was leaving today?!"

My mom looks caught unawares. "What? No! I didn't..."

"Then why were you looking in the direction of Fa - of the Walkers' house?" I demand.

She gives in to my smoldering glare. If I could shoot lasers out of my eyes, well first of all, I'd be a friggin' superhero. But also my mother would have been burnt to a crisp. "Okay, fine. I knew. But Anne and I were talking, and we decided it would be best not to tell you, because... well, because you would act like you're acting now."

I literally have no words. My mother, my best friend, all conspiring against me. I continue my stomp-and-slam routine up the stairs to my room and sit down on my bed after my unsuccessful attempt to yank the door off of its hinges. I'm _seething_. I look around my messy room, at the borrowed sweatshirts littering the ground, the stack of grunge CD's he promised I'd like but I never actually listened to, the shelf of trophies we earned from winning the school's three legged race every year for 8 years straight.

And then an idea pops into my head. If he can throw me away like I'm three-day-old trash, I can throw _him_ away.

* * *

"Max, _what the hell are you doing?"_

I pause, red-faced and sweaty, in the middle of lugging the gigantic box full of borrowed stuff, mementos, photographs, basically anything and everything that'll remind me of _him_. I was attempting to hurl it out of the window, like a huge gesture of good riddance, but I wish I hadn't neglected arm days so much during soccer practices. I turn around to see a strawberry-blond head of hair standing in my doorway, staring at me incredulously. "Iggy?"

"Mrs. Ride - your mom - called me and told me you were acting like a lunatic, so I decided to stop by. Why are you trying to throw a dead body out of your window? Also, do you need any help?"

"It isn't a dead body," I grunt, deciding to give up on the window thing for now. "It's all of Fang's stuff."

"Oh, because he went off to college without telling you, even though he told everyone else?" I grit my teeth and ignore Iggy, because, well, he's Iggy. He can't tell anything except the truth. His condition, as he likes to call it, is a really mild form of Asperger's, which is why he is so lovable and so annoying at the same time. Also he's way smarter than I am, which is why he'll probably end up following Fang to Cornell.

Anyways, enough about Iggy. This story is about _me_. Me and the boy I hate.

"Yeah," I said, sitting down on the box and wiping the sweat off my forehead with my shirt. "Exactly that. So you know, too?"

"Like I said, everyone knows. He made all of us promise not to tell you until he got a chance to settle in at Cornell, but I guess I ruined it by telling you just now. So... sorry."

"That's okay, Iggy."

But it's not. It's really not okay. I'm going to kill that boy. I'm going to go all the way to Cornell, and then I'm going to kill him.


End file.
